She traced over of the initials engraved on the top of the dark, chestnut wood jewelry box, LMS. She glanced down at the inscription, though she knew that she could never forget it. Margaret spent nearly all of her time up in the attic, staring at this box. To my dear Lyla, it read. Though I must go away for a while, know that I love you and have cherished all of the time of I have spent with you. The words brought sentimental tears to Margaret’s eyes. She shut them tight, took a deep breath, opened them, and for the first time ever decided to open the beautiful box. Up until now, the box had seemed to personal, untouched and private. But today, she decided that she could not stand the suspense. She gingerly picked up the box, afraid that it might crumble in her hands, feeling the smooth edges, smelling the lingering traces of wood finish. The box was lighter than she had expected, neither carrying the weight of lost memories nor jewelery. “Strange,” Margaret said to herself. “I would have thought that something as amazing as this would have been constantly used!” Setting down the box, not much longer than a book, and not much wider than a loaf of bread, Margaret gently opened the lid up. It was not filled with expensive jewelery, nor anything of the sort. Instead, lying on the soft, purple velvet, looking slightly old but never touched, was a letter. Margaret felt wrong reading it, but could not resist the temptation.

To whoever might be reading this: I cannot bear living without Thomas. Every day is a void, empty of emotion, no joy, no sadness. I have gone after him to war, though I know I shouldn’t. Please tell him, if he comes back, what I have done. I love him more than I can bear, and know that you can understand, dear reader. If he returns, and I am not here, give him this. -Lyla Marie Stephens

“Give him what?” Margaret wondered aloud. Then she saw it: a simple golden wedding band. Margaret yearned more than anything to be able to complete this story, to give these two a happily ever after, but no one had returned for the box. There was no date on the letter. Who knew what had happened to Thomas and Lyla? Perhaps they had died, or maybe found each other and have been too caught up in the moment to return for the jewelery box. Margaret would never know. So, with a heavy heart, Margaret returned the box to the shelf where she had found it, tracing over the gold inscription one last time. She looked down at the dark wood where a tear splashed down from her face. Perhaps it would be the last tear every shed over this story.